


symbols

by sevdrag (seventhe)



Series: tumblr mugged me in a back alley [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Ensemble Cast, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 07:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhe/pseuds/sevdrag
Summary: Bucky and Clint get more comfortable.





	symbols

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FadedSepia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FadedSepia/gifts).



> note: russian families often have a variety of slippers available for their guests, as well as special pairs for special guests, and everyone wears slippers around the house rather than socks, shoes, or bare feet. (Source: my own personal red slippers at my brother’s house courtesy ukranian sister-in-law)

Clint blinks. The giant mountain of shoeboxes doesn’t vanish. “Tony?”

Tony grins. “As your benevolent dictator, I come bearing gifts.” He picks up a box and dramatically flings the top across the room, nearly hitting Bruce. “New line of merchandise launches tomorrow, proceeds go towards Sokovian refugees, and yours truly jumped the line to be first.” He removes a pair of - slippers? Black Widow slippers? - and waves them around genially before tossing them at Natasha.

She catches them, and Clint almost laughs at the sheer obvious surprise crossing her face before she narrows her eyes to examine them further. They’re black slip-ons, lined with plush black something, her hourglass embroidered in red. “Hm.” Nat hums, and then slips one onto her left foot, moving her toes around in it.

Tony looks like he’s waiting for Christmas. Steve’s rolling his eyes, Bucky looks bored, and everyone else seems to be waiting as if they’ll take their lead from Natasha.

“Удобный,” Nat says. “House slippers. Very Russian, Tony.”

“Perfect,” Tony says, picking up the next box and tossing it at Bucky, who catches it effortlessly without a flinch. “Here you go, Cold War. Have a pair. Have ten pairs, I got plenty, all sizes and all designs. I expect to see you all taking advantage. No more shoes in the house, kids.”

Bruce is the next to step up, then Steve sighs and says, “Thanks, Tony.” Tony beams like he does when he’s particularly self-satisfied, and gestures at the rest of them. 

Clint heads into what’s becoming an Avengers pile. He snags a pair of Hawkeye slippers, then a set of Black Widow ones, because that’s basically required. After consideration, he also takes a Scarlet Witch pair, because he doesn’t want Wanda to feel unloved. The Quicksilver ones can just sit there, he decides, grinning.

“Pajama party tonight,” Tony declares. “I’ll get Thai. Movie night. Wear your new slips.”

“Don’t wear your nightie,” Rhodey says to Tony, who only grins.

———

Clint takes to wearing the slippers around the compound: one Black Widow, one Scarlet Witch, which he feels go together surprisingly well. It might clash with his usual purple aesthetic, but who cares? They’re in the compound. Really.

Unsurprisingly Bucky and Steve are wearing each other’s, Tony’s wearing his own, and everyone else seems to vary from day to day. He spots Nat in a pair of Hawkeyes and gives her a grinning fistbump. After the first few days, however, the excitement dies, and everyone just settles into a favorite pair and moves on.

Which is why Clint pauses when he comes up from the shooting range and finds Bucky asleep on one of the couches in the common room, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his face and a bright purple pair of Hawkeye slippers on.

He and Bucky are becoming friends, sure - they meet more sleepless nights than not, either down in the shooting range or in front of the common TV - but he hasn’t seen Bucky wear anything other than Captain America. He doesn’t even have a pair of his own Winter Soldier ones, from what Clint can tell.

Something flips over in his chest, seeing Bucky curled up and wearing his slippers, and Clint’s surprised to find the sappy smile spread across his face in spite of himself.

———

Tony orders a week’s worth of Mediterranean cuisine for the next movie night. Clint shows up in a pair of black sweatpants, wearing one Black Widow slipper and one of the Winter Soldier ones he took from the closet where Tony threw all the spares.

Nat gives him a look. “My two favorite Russians,” Clint protests, and grins. He glances over at Bucky and catches a strange look on the other man’s face: surprise, sure, but he looks up and catches Clint’s eye and something decidedly warm and amused passes between them for a second.

Clint’s slipper choices means he ends up on a couch between Nat and Bucky, with a plate full of falafel, and he’s really pretty okay with that. Bucky’s wearing his Captain America slippers again, but he falls asleep halfway through the movie, slouching against Clint’s side, and that’s nice.

———

The next time he yells himself awake and stumbles down to the shooting range, he wears the Winter Soldier pair. He shoots for a half hour before Bucky jumps down from the rafter he was sitting on and joins him. Bucky’s wearing the ridiculous purple slippers again, and Clint’s heart skips double.

———

Next movie night Tony brings in what looks like every combination burger that exists, and Thor wants to watch Star Wars, and Clint and Bucky are both wearing each other’s logos again and end up sharing a loveseat and a blanket because honestly, Clint’s seen Star Wars a million times, and he’s actually kind of tired.

He dozes off on Tatooine and wakes up with his cheek pressed into Bucky’s thigh and Bucky’s arm warm around his shoulders. The room’s dark. Bucky’s breathing is even, so he’s resting if not asleep himself, and it’s much too easy for Clint to close his eyes and drift off again.

———

A few days later, Clint wakes up to a knock on his door. It can’t be Nat, who would just walk in; he stumbles out of bed, slips on the first pair of slippers he can find (it’s a habit now), and opens the door.

Bucky’s standing there, a hot mug of coffee in each hand, wearing his Hawkeye slippers and a smirk that only mostly hides a bit of wariness in his eyes.

“Marry me,” Clint blurts out, reaching for the cup Bucky’s extending his way with no filter between his brain and his mouth.

Bucky waits for him to take a long sip, and the smirk settles a little more solidly on his face. 

“Bit early for that, doll,” he says, and Clint’s almost bowled over by the warmth in his voice. “But we’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to counter a terrible whump!death!fic Sep wrote. Enjoy the tooth-rotting fluff.


End file.
